why, hello there . . .

it's funny how i went straight for the black layout.
chuckle chuckle.
care for a cup of coffee while we giggle?

my mother tells me i can't drink coffee. i do anyway. since our coffee pot has broken, i've been in mourning. i feel like i'm cheating on my joe with ol lipton.
but shit. a girl needs her caffiene.

the tea burns my tongue. Later, I will examine the pink flesh, go AHHH in the mirror, stroke the irritated bumps. But for now, I gulp like a maniac. Thoughts humming, mind jabbering: CAFFIENE CAFFIENE. More more more caffeine.
So much to do, so little time. A white rabbit, scampering toward the deadline, the deadline for the paper, for the life that I live so very reluctantly, the life that i refuse to give up.
Deadline for me, deadline for weight, must lose those last five pound, must finish the story, must do the math homework.

Can’t.

A string of curses.

Friends have abandoned me, all grounded on account of a midnight outing I was not able to attend. I regret this. Instead of running around in the dead of night, movie jumping, laughing and drinking – I went out to a diner with my mom. I ate a tuna melt and French fries, and two cups of coffee. Felt fat. Felt huge. Felt happy. Was very ashamed of this.
So then i went out and bought a tub of frozen yogurt, which I devoured. I comforted myself by telling myself that my friends could not possibly have had as much fun as they would if I had been there.

Still. I worry. I wonder what they have said about me, because, Jesus. Someone must be talking. I’m starving for the attention, the gossip, the DRAMA. It will mean I matter, if they talk about me behind my back. It will mean I matter.

i can't not matter.